Code Black
by Kenuck
Summary: [HIATUS] Their worst nightmare comes true. Danny and Lindsay find themselves stuck in a potentially life threatening situation with Hammerback. [DL]
1. 09:06 PM

**Title**: Code Black  
**Fandom**: CSI: New York  
**Characters**: Danny Messer, Lindsay Monroe, Sid Hammerback, OMCs, OFCs.  
**Spoilers**: None.  
**Rating**: T  
**Warning**: Mature language, mild gore.  
**Disclaimer**: "Code Black" is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  
**Author's Notes**: I know I'm supposed to be working on another fic, but I couldn't shake this idea. (Keep in mind that the disease Sid references is _not real_.) Please try to be patient with me - this is gasp my first WiP! Reviews are always welcome.

**Acknowledgements**: Thank-you to the incredible **Sugah**, for the beta, and to **Spunky** for being a great advisor. I wub you both.

-----

_09:06 P.M._

Sid Hammerback was a man of patience. It was, after all, a prerequisite for his job as a Medical Examiner: dealing with those who couldn't simply open their mouths and tell of their journey to his table. And for that, he was grateful. _The living are always the ones who hurt us,_ he thought. _The dead can inflict neither pain nor cause such worldly travesties._

Detectives Lindsay Monroe and Danny Messer were late for the meeting they had scheduled with Hammerback – one hour and thirty-six minutes, to be exact. He sat in his office, reading over the report Dr. Marty Pino had left for him to review, with tired eyes and the physical tormenting of a sore back. A cup of lukewarm coffee sat beside the unopened mail he had yet to acknowledge, and the phone beside the computer monitor sat still for what seemed like the first time all day.

He had completed four postmortems, an astonishing record, pushing his meeting with Lindsay and Danny for the end of his shift so that he could work in the morgue without a break in his schedule. Now that it was past quitting time, and they had yet to arrive for debriefing, he put his nose in a file and began his review of the work cluttering the top of his desk.

The intercom on his desk buzzed and the soft, feminine voice of his secretary broke the silence: "Dr. Hammerback, Detective Messer and Detective Monroe are here to see you."

"Thank you, Carol. Tell them to meet me in Autopsy Two, please."

He sank back into the curve of his swivel chair and sighed. _Time to provide answers. _

It was a quick trip out of his office and down the eerily quiet hallways to the autopsy suite, where he found Danny and Lindsay standing inside, pulling on fresh pairs of latex gloves.

Danny looked up and watched Hammerback move for the drawer. "Sorry we're late, Hammerback. It's insane how crazy a little bit of snow makes the city."

The aged Medical Examiner waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I was just catching up on paperwork. If anything, I should thank you, for leaving me with no other option than to tend to the tedious work while I waited."

He tugged open the drawer. A standard white blanket covered the corpse of 23-year-old Stephan Shrute, a convicted impaired driver who had been ordered to serve the rest of his eighteen-month probation by completing several hours of community service. Danny and Lindsay were in the midst of determining whether or not his rift with the Brooklyn Boys – a new street gang that was rumoured to have taken over the Tanglewood Boys' business ventures - had anything do with his death.

Pulling back the sheet, Hammerback exposed Shrute's bruised features to the observing investigators. Excessive force in the form of physical blows had broken small blood vessels beneath his skin and caused contusions to rise and become visible.

"My preliminary examination didn't uncover much," Hammerback said. "Other than the bruising, everything appears fine on the outside; there aren't any lacerations or wounds to suggest foul play."

The doors to the suite opened and Luke McCabe, a morgue attendant, appeared in the doorway. Tall and boyish, McCabe was new to the Medical Examiner's office, having only completed his training for work as an assistant to the doctors of death a few months earlier.

"I'm gonna head out, Sid."

"Have a nice night, Luke."

McCabe nodded and ducked out, his release of the door sending it swinging open and closed until it slowly lost momentum and came to a halt.

"Toxicology came back clean." Hammerback handed the report over the body to Lindsay. "He had small traces of acetaminophen in his system, but all that indicates is that he took Aspirin."

"And the plot thickens..."

"I was backed up today, so I have his autopsy scheduled for tomorrow." He placed the clipboard back and regarded Danny and Lindsay, both of whom were staring at the corpse.

Danny dipped his head, leaning closer to the decedent. "Sid, what's the red discolouration around his eyes?"

Hammerback pried open one of the victim's eyelids gently to expose a glassy, bloodshot iris. Pressure on the sinuses around Shrute's eye caused thick, crimson blood to expurgate. He heard a sharp intake of breath - a sudden gasp from Lindsay - and quickly grabbed a small flashlight from the tray by the slab.

Once in his hand, he clicked the light on and connected his glasses. Blood spilled over the lower rim of the victim's eye and oozed down his face as Hammerback probed the socket. He felt the warm substance through the glove protecting his hand, his fingers slipping in it.

Lindsay inadvertently took a step back. "My God..."

He reverted his attention to the victim's bruised chest and examined it, feeling a stiff, hard mass in his abdomen, and reached for a scalpel. As soon as the sharp blade cut the flesh, a balloon of biological fluids sprayed, sending him and the detectives stumbling away with their hands over their faces.

"What the...?"

Hammerback dropped the bloodied scalpel and flashlight, and rushed for the phone like a guided missile. He picked up the receiver and stabbed buttons with a rigid finger, dialling the number for Carol's phone at the front desk.

"Carol. It's Sid. Notify Hazmat and the CDC - I have a code black: a body with an infectious viral disease. Looks like Polaris Fever." He listened to her frantic voice. "Calm down, Carol. Evacuate and shut down the floor, and have all casualties sent to the morgue at Mercy West Hospital. Detectives Monroe and Messer, and I are under quarantine - please alert their supervisor, Detective Mac Taylor."

"What's going on?" Danny's voice echoed.

With an emphatic tone, Hammerback turned and ordered, "Get away from him, _now_."

Pulling Lindsay with him, Danny moved further away from the drawer, the truculent note in Hammerback's words startling him. "Are you going to tell us what's going on?"

"He's bleeding from his eyes," said Hammerback as he hung up the phone.

"I could've told you that."

Hammerback stared at him. "This isn't _The Mothman Prophecies_, Danny. Our victim has what appears to be Polaris Fever."

"Polaris Fever? What's that?" Lindsay asked.

"It's a viral disease that's typically transmitted from rodents to humans," Hammerback explained.

"The victim worked in sanitation for his community service hours; he probably dealt with dead rats or their excrement."

"Rodents work as carriers for the illness, passing it on to humans or other animals with weak immune systems," Hammerback added. "It starts off with symptoms – a few of them being similar to the flu – and evolves into a degenerative sickness. Without proper treatment, it can be fatal within six hours, depending on the person's immune system."

"And we've all been exposed," Danny said gravely.

Hammerback nodded and stared across the room to the open drawer. _Maybe I was wrong - maybe the dead_ can _inflict pain._


	2. 10:24 PM

**Title**: Code Black  
**Fandom**: CSI: New York  
**Characters**: Danny Messer, Lindsay Monroe, Sid Hammerback, OMCs, OFCs.  
**Spoilers**: None.  
**Rating**: T  
**Warning**: Mature language, mild gore.  
**Disclaimer**: "Code Black" is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  
**Author's Notes**: It's late. And short. _I know._ I've started another casefile, and so that's also been consuming time, as well as the thing people call "reel lyphe." Whatever that is.

**Acknowledgements**: Thanks for the beta, **Sugah**.

-----

_10:24 P.M._

Lindsay Monroe sat slumped against the locked doors leading into the refrigerator. Elbows drawn close between her chest and knees, she rested her forehead in the palms of her hands and closed her eyes, fighting the force pulling her into a sleepy state. Extensive analysis and testing of the garbage the victim had been picking through when he died had been tiring, as had been leaning over her workbench, cataloguing and entering every used napkin, Starbucks coffee cup, and empty chip bag into evidence lock-up.

She wished to be at home, reheating a plate of the lasagne she had made the previous night and lounging on the couch, instead of sitting on the cold floor, listening to slamming cabinets as Hammerback scoured the shelves, or Danny's unrelenting pacing.

The wall phone had rung about half a dozen times in the hour since Hammerback reported the Polaris Fever infection that Stephan Shrute, the victim in her case with Danny, had more or less died from. Calls from Mac and representatives from the CDC - who were snowed in at their New Jersey location - had been frequent for updates on the small group's condition. The only thing plaguing Lindsay was the grip of fatigue and her grumbling stomach.

Her head shot up upon the resonance of a deep, masculine cough caught deep in Danny's throat. He struggled through the rough exhalation, his hand suppressing most of the noise. The coughing ceased, and he muttered a gruff, "Lovely."

"Bloody mucus?" Hammerback asked.

"Yeah. That a symptom, or something?"

The doctor gave a dour nod. "I'm afraid so."

Lindsay inhaled heavily and released the air in a sharp breath, allowing her head to fall back in her hands. _I don't need this now,_ she thought.

"What exactly is this…_thing_?" Danny asked as he reached for a Kleenex.

"It's an intense infection similar to Viral Hemorrhagic Fever and its counterparts," Hammerback explained, "though this one is much more potent and is reduced into a shorter incubation period. Similar viruses like Hantavirus have five phases of symptoms: febrile, hypotensive, oliguric, diuretic, and convalescent. Polaris has similar stages; however they're condensed into a six-to-ten hour period of time, which is why it's extremely dangerous."

"You said the symptoms were similar to the flu?"

"They are. Headache, fever and chills, aches," he listed. "Bruising occurs in the third stage, and by the end, your system begins to shut down. Difficulty breathing, tachycardia, and ultimately, cardiac arrest. But enough about that. Let's prep for autopsy."

Lindsay had found a spot on the floor and allowed it to consume her sight. Only when she had quelled enough energy did she rise to join the men in preparation for the autopsy of Stephan Shrute.

Once the body had been transferred to the autopsy table, the trio retreated to the suite's closed off anteroom and pulled surgical gowns and caps over their clothes, each grabbing masks and fresh gloves from the boxes stacked on a metal shelf. It was almost instinctive, their motions, as they covered themselves with protective garb. _Protection from what?_ Lindsay wondered, and re-entered the room where the body lay in wait for further dissection.

She assumed a position beside Danny, opposite of the table from Hammerback, who couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as he picked up a clean scalpel and brought it close to flesh - the same skin that had showered him and the detectives with an eruption of blood. But this time, as he sliced the body open, 10-blade cutting through skin, there were no bursts of liquid.

The scalpel returned to its spot on the tray and Hammerback went to work, peeling back the flaps of skin to expose the interior anatomy of the victim.

Lindsay watched as he began to uncover Shrute's secrets. First, he removed the rib plate, hacking through bone with large pruning shears. Once his only obstruction was gone, the Medical Examiner's hands disappeared in the chest cavity, pulling out organs. He removed the stomach and lungs, examining each behind framed eyes before placing each in a container.

Hammerback cleared his throat rather loudly and assumed his task of removing the heart.

"You alright, Sid?" Danny asked.

"Peachy." The scalpel returned to his hand and he began cutting, making incisions.

He completed his examination of the victim's heart with the detectives watching, waiting for substantiation. The right ventricle showed indisputable evidence of respiratory arrest, the last stage of the disease.

"It's definitely Polaris," Hammerback said, placing the heart in a container. "I'll call the CDC for confirmation and ask about their ETA before we move on to the brain." He crossed the room to the phone, stripping off his soiled gloves, and reached for the phone.

While Hammerback talked, Lindsay moved around the table and picked up the basin containing the heart. "Hammerback," she called in a low voice, holding up the dish. Like a mother catching up with a friend over the phone, he turned and looked over, half-heartedly distracted by the voice on the line, nodding to permit the actions she mouthed.

Danny followed her over to the stationary desk where a microscope was ready to be used. With accurate precision, she shaved off a sample of tissue and prepared a wet mount, squeezing two drops of sterile water and dropping a clear piece of plastic on the slide at an acute angle.

The light beneath the microscope's stage glowed brightly through the lens as she secured the slide in place and looked through the scope. "Something is definitely here." She examined the sample and proceeded to step aside, allowing her partner a view of the disease that could very much have been multiplying and attaching themselves to her own cells.

With his glasses resting on his forehead, Danny stared into the microscope and saw the damage through his own eyes. Bright cells marred with ebony dots of the disease consumed his vision and stuck in his mind as a cough rose in his throat.

_It's going to be a long night._

TBC


End file.
